Jude came to a stop at the end of the long drive, looking both ways four times before easing out onto the main road and barelyhitting the gas pedal. We puttered up to two miles below the speed limit, Jude’s sweet spot.
“You are the only person I know who actually obeys the speed limit.”
“It’s the law!” Jude exclaimed. “If we start breaking the ones we don’t like, then society will collapse and chaos will follow.”
I snorted a laugh. “I doubt it’ll be that serious.”
“Well, I don’t want to find out,” Jude said, double-checking his rearview mirror.
“So, while you, Mr. Rule Follower, made Gordon’s Frozen Custard bundles of money for basically free, Kenzie fell in love with your brain.” I could see it happening. Jude was stupid smart, and he did have a habit of solving complicated problems and saving the day.
Jude sent me a sidelong glance. “They hired me on as a consultant. They paid me.” Jude slowed to the recommended twenty miles per hour to take a turn that most people would take at forty.
“Just curious: Did you start going to the gym before or after you two met?”
“After,” he said sheepishly. “And nice of you to notice.”
“Notice? Your biceps are practically bursting out of your half-zip, bro. You look like you actually know what a bench press is now.”
Another spot of red appeared on Jude’s cheek. It was kind of adorable. So was the thought of him hurrying to the gym five days a week to make sure Kenzie noticed more than his brain.
“Why’d you two break up?”
Jude shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Maybe we should talk about something else. Should we go interview Dave Simpson? I know how to get to his place.”
“Sure. Fine. Whatever. Why did you two break up?”
Jude glanced in his rearview. “Do we really need to talk about this?”
“Seems to me like she’d be fine with getting back together.”
Jude let out a groan. “I know,” he murmured, so softly I almost didn’t hear. “She—she wanted to get married.”
I burst out laughing. “And you didn’t? Damn, don’t hate the player, hate the game!” Jude wasn’t finding any of this as funny as I was. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”
Jude frowned as he glared through his windshield, eyes glued to the road.
“But, seriously, tell me why you didn’t want to marry a gorgeous heiress to a fortune who adores you and calls you Pooh Bear?” On paper, Kenzie had it all. Always did. Gorgeous, rich, magnetic. She was untouchable. “Wait. Don’t tell me. She had some weird kink where she wanted to call you ‘Daddy’!” I mimicked her singsongy voice, even as I imagined Kenzie in a transparent white negligee with feathered trim holding a teddy bear and crying out, “Daddy’s home!”
Jude burst out laughing. “Ew! No!” Jude managed to become serious again. “But for the record, I will not talk about anything personal like that. My mama raised me up right.” Jude sounded like an uptight gentleman from the Regency era. It was kind of annoying, but also kind of admirable at the same time.
“Fine.” I sighed. I glared at Jude’s profile. If I stared at him long enough, maybe I could wiggle into his mysterious genius mind and figure him out. “Give me a non-bedroom reason why you didn’t want to marry Kenzie.”
Jude sent me another sidelong glance, pulling his attention from the road. “You really want to know?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed.
“You’re not just looking for another thing to tease me about?” We glided by another Gilded Age robber baron lake house, set back on a rolling green estate.
“I mean, yes, of course I’m looking for another thing to tease you about.” Teasing Jude was one of my favorite pastimes, next to punching the mayor.
Jude laughed a little, despite himself. “Fine. Well, I love Kenzie, but I was neverin lovewith her.”
“What does that mean?” I knew I possessed the emotional maturity of a ten-year-old. I wasn’t even 100 percent sure I’d ever really been in love, probably because I avoided real relationships as much as I avoided mushrooms. I wanted easy and uncomplicated, like Spider-Man Mateo, men who were supposed to stay out of my hair and not ask me for anything.
Jude sent me a quick glance. “Loving someone is passive. It’s like loving a piece of art, or a car, or a book. You love it, but it’s notpartof you.” He focused his attention back on the road. “Beingin lovewith a person means that love isinyou. They’re your best friend. It’s a bond that’s active, that’s a living, breathing kind of love. It means that no matter how dangerous the world is, they’re always your safe spot, your place to be 100 percent authentically yourself, flaws and all. Being in love means you’ve found someone who fits you perfectly, that your odd pieces fit their odd pieces, and that somehow, your oddball quirks and foibles together make a better person than the one you were alone. It doesn’t mean you found someone that completes you. It means you found someone who just accepts you completely.”
“Did you find that in a meme?”
